Fireflies
by Moriano
Summary: The story where Kirishima wants to make Bakugou happy.


Bakugou is almost always, constantly angry. Annoyed. Scowling. The angry spark is always there, burrowed deep inside, lingering, smoldering, cracking with impatient silent sound, ready to emerge any moment. His lips pursed in a thin line. Teeth clenched. Eyebrows narrowed. Eyes shooting displeased glares at everyone right and left. The moments when he's calm, his annoyance in slumber, are rare.

Even now, when he's sleeping, the displeased grimace doesn't leave his handsome face. Kirishima looks at him, at his soft yet chapped lips, at his cheeks where he knows almost invisible sun-freckles are. Sometimes he cannot resist himself and gives quick, butterfly kisses to these cheeks. There are times when he's so brazen that he steals such kisses from Bakugou, too. If he could, he'd do this all the time, but he doesn't want to cross the other boy's boundaries too much. He believes that the time when he'll be able to shower Bakugou with affection without any worries will come one day. He'll wait, he'll wait as long as he has to. He'll be patient.

Just as patient he was when he asked the blond to join him on his summer vacation. He asked over and over again, with small breaks in between, always cautious not to take it too far. It was a miracle that Bakugou finally agreed––Eijirou had to babble about how fun it's gonna be, and how no one will disturb them because they'll be living in a small country house owned by the Kirishima family. "Yeah, fine, whatfuckingever, you shit," Bakugou said after a whole month, making the redhead smile like the sun. Bakugou doesn't remember seeing Kirishima _this_ happy.

And here they are, in the Kirishimas' little house, lying on separate futons, even though the chances of them ending up snuggled are pretty high. Eijirou learned that Bakugou is a sucker for warmth and will probably gravitate towards any source of heat without realizing, like it happened many times before. They often end up being a cuddling mess, their legs intertwined together, one of the boys having his face hidden in the other's nape or the crook of the neck. Not that Eijirou minds it, of course.

Surrounded by darkness, Kirishima looks at Bakugou and wonders. Why is he always angry? The redhead knows a lot about issues Katsuki deals with and he likes to think that he understands them, too, more than others do. That he understands the other boy like no one else does. Kirishima doesn't have the best grades but he's not stupid; reading the blond is easier than he ever thought it would be. It feels... natural? Maneuvering between Bakugou's mood swings, from the silence before storm and the actual awakening of hell. Reading between lines, being able to distinct one "fuck you" from that other "fuck you" that actually means, "Well, thanks, you little shit." Or telling apart the real "leave me fucking alone" from this other "leave me fucking alone" which stands for "Stay with me but don't ask about the problem for some time." Sometimes Kirishima doesn't even need words to know what Katsuki wants or thinks, all he needs is one glance at his face, his eyes, that speak louder than any of his yelling. From the moment when Bakugou called him by his name for the first time, he feels like they get and balance each other in every way perfectly. From the moment when Bakugou caught his hand, he feels like he belongs with the other boy and this is right, this is how things should be.

He knows Bakugou has anger issues but believes there's more about it. He knows about Katsuki's inferior and superior complex. He finds it is just unbelievable that one person has two at the same time. Is it even possible? Hell, with Bakugou everything is possible, and the boy himself is impossible. Does it even have sense? Well, to Kirishima, it does.

Does the problem lie in too much stress? Pressure, maybe? Both? After all, Bakugou demands a lot from himself. Too much. He has to be the best, the strongest, to the point of obsession. People also have great expectations of him, have had since he was a little kid. The weight of responsibility must be crushing... Maybe this is it?

Suddenly, Kirishima notices Bakugou's finger twitch in a nervous, way too familiar manner. Katsuki grunts and grimaces more. The redhead knows what's happening. A bad dream came. Not a nightmare, not yet, just a bad dream. But it's enough to make him concerned. Bakugou doesn't dream much, most of his nights are dreamless, he says. When they're not, though, it's either he has bad dreams or nightmares. Tonight is one of these nights. Lying on the opposite futon, Kirishima reaches out his hand and puts it on the top of Katsuki's, caressing it with his thumb. The gesture is slow and gentle, reassuring. Bakugou grunts once again and shifts slightly under his covers, but his features soften a little as he calms down. He probably drifted into a dreamless sleep.

Kirishima doesn't let go of his hand.

* * *

"Hey, Bakugou," Kirishima says on their fifth day here, on the countryside. They took quick showers after a spar and now he sits next to Bakugou as he reads a book. Their knees touch as Kirishima rests his head on the other boy's shoulder lazily.

"What," Katsuki growls but with no threat.

"You okay?" Eijirou glances at him. Bakugou's brows furrow and he sets the book aside.

"The fuck?"

The redhead stays silent for a moment. Carefully, he takes Bakugou's hand and the scowl on Katsuki's face only deepens but he says nothing. He watches as Kirishima mindlessly plays with his fingers and shifts uneasily.

"Gross," he mutters. Kirishima knows very well Bakugou has a love-hate relationship with handholding. His hands sweat a lot and that makes him uncomfortable. At the same time, he likes having his hands caressed in any way––may it be stroking, massaging or playing with his fingers, just like now. Eijirou saw many times how it calms him down.

"You know I don't mind it one bit," Kirishima chuckles and smiles, still holding Bakugou's hand. A minute or two pass and suddenly his expression becomes more serious. "Is something bothering you?"

"Kirishima, what the hell? I'm fucking fine. What's your problem?"

"I just––I mean––Because––" Kirishima stutters a little, trying to find the right words to say. He sighs and finally says, "You seem angry and unhappy a lot, I'm just––"

"I. Am. Goddamnfucking. Fine." Bakugou grunts and rolls his eyes. Kirishima doesn't look very convinced. The blond throws his arms fiercely in the air in an annoyed manner and opens his mouth to say something but closes it a second later. Then opens it again yet the only sound he makes is some groan. He clenches and unclenches his fists and a familiar crackling erupts from his palms.

Kirishima waits patiently and lets Bakugou collect his thoughts. He's aware that talking about his feelings or anything related is difficult for Katsuki so he never rushes him. Eventually, he usually––not always, but usually––gets a response even if it's a long way around the subject and hardly understandable; but it's okay, Kirishima gets it. A bigger part of it, anyway.

"I'm fine," Bakugou says finally. "Just––some things on my mind, that's all." He looks to the side and massages his knuckles. "Nothing serious. So don't fucking worry, shitty hair."

Eijirou reaches for Bakugou's hand once more and takes it, his thumb rubbing soothing circles on the back of his palm. There's always "some things" on Katsuki's mind but unless he's comfortable enough to talk about it, Kirishima's not going to pry.

"Just remember you can tell me anything, right?" Kirishima squeezes Bakugou's hand tightly.

"Whatever."

"I just want you to be happy, man."

"Can you just shut the fuck up and die?"

"Sure. Love you, too."

There's a faint pink tint appearing on Bakugou's ears and Kirishima finds it so adorable he cannot resist and places a quick kiss on the blond's cheek, which makes the shade of pink only darker.

* * *

"Bakugou, Bakugou," Kirishima says in a voice barely above a whisper and shakes his shoulder lightly. "Wake up." Maybe he'll regret it later, maybe not––it doesn't matter now, he needs to carry out his plan.

Bakugou grunts and groans, murmurs something akin to "fuck ooooff" in his sleep and turns to the other side, his back to Kirishima. The readhead pouts but doesn't give up. He stands up and picks up Bakugou's shorts and shirt and throws them at him.

"C'mon, man! Wake up!"

Kirishima takes Katsuki's covers and pulls them off. This surely jolts the blond awake because a second later Eijirou is pinned to the floor with Bakugou straddling him and his hand a little bit too near to Kirishima's face, small explosions already dancing in his palm. No matter the situation, Katsuki's reflexes are always incredible.

"I'm fucking gonna kill you," Bakugou hisses angrily, his voice hoarse and still sleepy. Bakugou appreciates his sleep and hates being woken up so suddenly, especially not in the middle of the night. So if anyone disturbs him without a serious reason, he gets mad. Or rather, more mad than usual, because he is always mad and annoyed after waking up.

"Fine, fine, sure," Kirishima says quickly, smiling nervously as the explosions don't cease, "but first, uh, could you dress up and come with me, please?"

"Jesus fuck, what the fucking hell!" Bakugou is _this_ close to exploding Kirishima's sorry ass to the moon. "Did you exchange your brain for a rock, now, too, shitty hair?! I was fucking sleeping. Fucking. Sleeping! And you do what, you fucking wake me up for no fucking reason!" He yells and thank God they're all alone in the little house. The sinister crackling intensifies, making Kirishima harden his skin unconsciously.

"Sorry! Sorry!" Kirishima puts his hands on Bakugou's chest. "You can blow me up and destroy later, however you like, I promise! Just––please––pretty please?––dress up and come with me?" He looks at Bakugou with pleading, puppy eyes. Something in Katsuki's face twitches, so Kirishima continues with his efforts and whines softly, making a really sad face. "It's important." He says and his hand travels to Bakugou's cheek. "For me, at least. So... please?" Eijirou rubs his thumb on the soft skin and sees that the blond actually cracking a little.

The explosions slowly stop and the only sound in the room is Katsuki's angry breathing that also becomes calmer and calmer with every passing moment. Finally, Bakugou huffs, lowers his hand and stands up, releasing Kirishima.

"Fucking fine," he murmurs under his breath and starts changing while swearing quietly.

After he's done, he aggressively wipes his hands on the shorts he's now dressed in and looks at Kirishima. The redhead grins like an idiot––well, of course, he _is_ an idiot, the biggest idiot––and looks so incredibly happy that if it was anyone else, it would make Bakugou feel sick. But it's Kirishima and the sight of him smiling makes Katsuki's heart skip a beat. Not like he's ever admit it to anyone, of course. No way in hell.

Eijirou grabs a blanket, and then Katsuki's hand and drags him out of the house, locking the door behind them. It's completely dark outside and the only light out there are stars twinkling happily on the sky high above. Even then, Kirishima's pace is steady and his steps confident as he walks down the path leading to the nearby small forest.

"Where the fuck are we going?" Bakugou asks and he feels his hand in Kirishima's sweating like crazy. He winces. Disgusting.

"You'll see." Eijirou turns his head to the blond and smiles brightly. He notices the sign of discomfort on Bakugou's face so he just laces their fingers together and tightens his grip. He doesn't mind a little sweat on his own skin. At first it was indeed weird and he himself felt uncomfortable but soon stopped caring at all. Instead, he focused on the fact that, damn, he's holding Bakugou's hand. He's holding the hand of _the_ Bakugou Katsuki. And that in itself is an achievement that dims everything else. And truth to be told, he loves holding hands with the other boy, to the moon and back.

They walk and walk, and soon Bakugou starts losing his temper. The further they're from the house, the more and louder he swears. The grass tickles his calves too much. Sometimes it scratches him and he finds it irritating as hell. He's sure mosquitoes will eat him alive. A branch attacks him when they enter the forest and smacks his face. He almost trips over a root. The air is too chilly. They're walking for too long. Soon, tiny angry explosions erupt from his palms. Kirishima hardens his hand so Bakugou's quirk doesn't hurt him and then makes sure that the explosions aren't big enough to set the forest on fire. Fortunately, they are not.

Finally, they reach their destination. Where the forest ends, a vast meadow begins. It's covered in summer flowers and their pleasant smell surrounds the boys. Gently blowing wind runs through grass and leaves of a couple of trees scattered across the meadow, creating a calm and quiet melody. A peaceful splashing of water can be heard somewhere in the distance. With twinkling stars above and surrounding silence the whole place feels unreal. The only thing disturbing the peace of the meadow is the crackling escaping Bakugou's hands.

Kirishima leads the blond a little bit further into the meadow. He places the blanket on the ground and turns to face Katsuki. He takes both of Bakugou's hands and rubs them gently, massages them in a calming motion. His knuckles, fingers, palms. After a while, explosions cease and the two are surrounded by almost complete silence. Even in the darkness, Eijirou's smile is visible and vibrant, just as Bakugou's scowl is. Kirishima sits on the blanket and soon Bakugou follows reluctantly.

"This is stupid," he mutters. "This place is fucking stupid. Why did you even brought me here, shitty hair, huh? There's nothing here! I should be sleeping right now, a not doing––doing this!"

Kirishima chuckles. "Sit still for a moment and you'll see. I promise."

"You promise me too many fucking things." But he complies with a slight pout.

They sit still for a minute. Two. Five. And just when Bakugou is about to say something, he hears it. A quiet sound of cicadas. It's shy at first, and Katsuki thought he imagined it. But it becomes louder and louder, and soon it's everywhere, vibrating, almost overwhelming. Then he hears something else––frogs? The sound is not as strong, not so close, but he's sure it's there, and it falls into the rhythm of cicadas quickly. The wind ruffles his hair and caresses his skin and flowers, and the gentle hum adds some magical touch to everything. He looks at the sky, at the bright starts, a flutter of a night bird's wings catches his ear, and he notices a vague shape flying high above his head. The forest behind their backs sings its own song and suddenly, Bakugou feels himself mesmerized by nature around him.

He's never been to a place like this before. He's never heard cicadas this loud. He's never seen the sky so pure. And the stars has never been this bright. The flowers have never smelled so calmingly. And the wind has never felt so pleasantly cool against his cheeks. It's like a dream. A surreal dream, so peaceful that he never wants to wake up from it.

Lights appear in front of him and he blinks, confused. Bakugou focuses on the small bright dots appearing one after another. For a moment he stays alerted but then he relaxes, realizing what he's seeing. Fireflies. Dozens of fireflies start dancing and flying above the grass and flowers and he feels his heart stop for a second. His eyes widen in disbelief and lips part slightly as he observes the sight in front of him. It's all so... _Beautiful_.

Bakugou pulls his legs to his chest, encircles them with his arms and rests his chin on his knees. His face is calm and peaceful. Soft. There's no scowl or grimace, he doesn't furrow his brows in annoyance. There's no angry crackling coming out of his palms. Instead, a small smile appears on his lips, as he lets himself get lost in everything that surrounds him.

He has no idea how long he's been sitting like this, content, still and without a sound. Fifteen minutes? An hour? Four hours? But he knows he hasn't felt this good in a long, long time. Nothing matters in this very moment. He have no problems, no intrusive thoughts flooding his mind. It's just him, the meadow and...

He glances to the side and sees Kirishima observing him with a gentle, loving smile. With warm, bright eyes full of affection. With his hair down, covering his forehead and sides of his face. He sees Kirishima and realizes something else. It's not only this place that brought him peace. It's not only the fireflies or cicadas, or frogs, or the soothing wind. The very reason he feels how he feels right now is––

"Eijirou," Bakugou's voice is quiet and calm, a little hoarse from not talking for God knows how long. Kirishima's heart stops for a moment; hearing Bakugou saying his name––his name, _his name, said in Katsuki's voice_ ––makes him want to cry from happiness. Kirishima doesn't move or respond, too afraid to say anything, afraid to break the spell. "Thank you." He hears finally. Bakugou's red eyes meet his, and all he sees in them is peaceful sparkle of undisturbed happiness.

Eijirou bites his lower lip and feels tears filling his eyes. He shakes his head and moves closer to Katsuki. When they're only a few centimeters apart, he sniffs and just hugs Bakugou tightly, hiding his face in the crook of his neck. He doesn't cry, he does everything in his power not to, but he feels so overjoyed and ecstatic he might as well explode.

They sit snuggled like this for hours. Bakugou keeps his arm around Kirishima's waist, and Kirishima holds his other hand, and they rest their shoulders touch. Sometimes Eijirou whispers something completely out of the blue and Bakugou snorts. Sometimes Bakugou's hand moves slowly up and down on Kirishima's side. The redhead even places a quick kiss on Bakugou's cheek and the other boy doesn't seem to mind. It's intimate and Kirishima doesn't remember being this close to Katsuki, may it be physically or emotionally.

They sit snuggled like this for hours, with fireflies around them.


End file.
